


The Longest Day

by onlyastoryteller



Series: Going, Going, Gone [2]
Category: Call Me By Your Name (2017) RPF
Genre: All the banter, Alternate Universe - Lawyers, Banter, Established Relationship, M/M, Office Shenanigans, SO MUCH BANTER
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-12
Updated: 2020-09-12
Packaged: 2021-03-07 02:34:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,268
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26419573
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/onlyastoryteller/pseuds/onlyastoryteller
Summary: Tim wakes up late, and starts a long day that could decide his fate at the firm...and his relationship with Armie.
Relationships: Timothée Chalamet/Armie Hammer
Series: Going, Going, Gone [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1920328
Comments: 56
Kudos: 259





	The Longest Day

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to those who requested this sequel. It was a lot of fun to revisit these guys, and I hope you enjoy a peek at what they’ve been up to since we last saw them.
> 
> 100% fiction, of course.
> 
> Enjoy!

Tim hurried across the street from the subway, dodging the slower-moving pedestrians in his way. His elbow clipped a guy in a puffy coat with a ratty backpack, and he tossed an apology over his shoulder as he hopped onto the opposite curb. 

He’d overslept that morning. Or rather, he’d set the alarm wrong. One of the drawbacks of switching back and forth between his apartment and Armie’s was keeping straight when he needed to be awake to get to work on time. Armie’s was not only closer to the office, but when he stayed there they rode in with Armie’s driver, so he didn’t need to factor in the uncertainties of the subway. 

And last night, he’d tapped the wrong button on his phone. That meant he’d raced through his shower, skipped breakfast and coffee, and still here he was, a good half hour behind before the day had even begun. 

And today, of all days, that wasn’t what he wanted. 

His phone buzzed, and he slipped it out of his pocket, glancing at the display. Armie. Of course. He answered. 

“Hey,” he said. 

“You’re not in your office,” Armie replied. 

“Excellent powers of observation. Are you sure _lawyer_ is the right career for you? Maybe you should have gone investigator. FBI.” Tim hopped over a tiny yapping dog that darted into his path and waved off the apology from its owner. 

“It’s seven forty-five a.m. I’m in your office. I’m holding your favorite coffee—“

“You got me coffee? Thank god, you’re a saint, I didn’t have time to stop this morning.” Tim rounded the corner at a half-jog and cut across the plaza towards his building. His breath puffed around him, little bursts of cloud that swirled around him in the icy air. 

“Wrong alarm again?” Armie asked, and Tim could tell he was smiling.

“Fuck my life. Is this going to plague my existence forever?”

“If you’d name them appropriately, instead of _Get up now_ and _Really get up_ and _No kidding get up_ , you wouldn’t make this mistake.”

Tim pushed through the revolving door, relieved to be out of the snapping cold, and slowed to a brisk walk. Glancing at the newly erected fir tree in the lobby, glittering with gold and red ornaments and twinkling lights, he said, “Tell you what, I’ll let you rename them for me for Christmas.”

“Can I also change your alarm songs to something normal?”

“Not a chance.” Tim laughed. He flashed his badge at the card reader and nodded at the guard. “You’d be breaking fifteen years of tradition. I wouldn’t know to wake up if the songs changed.”

“How late are you, exactly?” Armie asked. “It’s a big day. And I thought you had a client meeting this morning.”

“I do. At eight. And I’m here.” Tim jabbed the elevator button and tapped his foot, eyes darting from door to door, ready to run for the one that opened first. 

“That’s demonstrably false.”

“I’m on my way up. Elevator is taking forev — there.” Tim slid into the elevator and jabbed the button for his floor. “Ninety seconds.”

“I’d wanted to wish you a good morning, a good meeting, a good pitch, and a great day.” 

“You can,” Tim said, peeling off his gloves and rifling through his bag for the notes he’d been working on the night before. “I’m listening.”

“I had something for you besides the coffee.”

“What?” Tim asked. The notes weren’t where he thought. “Fuck, did I leave—“

“Tim.”

“Oh, no, here they are. Thank god.” He found them in a side pocket, and his shoulders dropped from where they were hunched around his ears. 

“Tim.”

“What?” The elevator doors slid open and Tim dashed out and through the mini-reception area. No one was there yet, which meant he wasn’t _actually_ late. Yet. 

“I said, I had _something_ for you besides the coffee.”

The low, rich tone in Armie’s voice registered, and Tim’s step faltered, his gut turning to liquid. 

“Oh,” he said. “I’m almost there. Twenty seconds.”

He rounded the corner. His assistant, Julia, was setting up for the day, stowing her bag and turning on her computer. She waved. He waved back, and continued on into his office, nerves jumping in anticipation. 

When he stepped inside, however, it was empty. A giant latte sat in the center of his desk. 

“Where did you go?” Tim asked, breathlessly. 

“I slipped away when I saw Julia coming,” Armie said. “Didn’t want to…”

“Answer questions. Yeah, probably smart.” Tim sank onto his desk chair, feeling deflated. Until he made partner, and for a time after, they’d agreed to keep their relationship a secret from the firm. It made any interaction at the office tricky to manage, and they’d spent the past four months navigating these waters, pretending to only be friendly and not... _friendly_. “Damn.”

“You’ve got two minutes before your meeting,” Armie said. “Not the best timing, anyhow. I’ll have to give you your other gift later.”

Tim smiled. “I can’t wait. Thanks for the coffee.”

“Have a good meeting. Call me when you’re done.”

With a sigh, Tim set his phone on the desk. Knowing Armie had been here and he’d missed a chance to see him shouldn’t affect him the way it did. It wasn’t a big deal. They’d catch up later. 

Still, it gave him a certain... _thrill_...that after four months of seeing each other, his stomach still danced and his pulse raced whenever he saw the man. 

“Tim, your eight a.m. is in the lobby, and Dani and the bev cart are in conference room four,” Julia called, and Tim jumped, pulled from his thoughts. 

He took his notes and laptop out of his bag, grabbed a legal pad, a pen, and the latte, and headed out, trying to focus on the day that was starting with or without him. 

* * *

Tim stood and held out his hand. 

“Mr. Thompson, it was a pleasure to meet you in person,” he said. 

The man across the table rose with him and shook his hand. “Likewise. Is there anything else that you need from me?”

“Not that I can think of now, but inevitably we’ll come across something as we’re drafting the complaint. I’ll call you. Or Dani will.”

He stepped aside to let the junior associate take the client back out to reception. She was smart, and he was glad he’d snapped her up for this case. Between the two of them, he thought they could run it lean and come out on top. 

The way he always did. 

It was especially important to be on his game now. The voting for new partners was finally happening that evening — after a three month delay for “economic recalibration” — and he’d know by tonight if he was one of them. Armie had said it was a done deal, but Tim didn’t want to count his chickens. He’d rather be pleased and surprised than disappointed. 

Back in his office, he called Julia in to go over some things they still needed to square away for the pitch meeting he was running that afternoon. This wasn’t his first pitch, but it was the first in which he had secured the sit-down, and the first in which he was taking the lead. Getting Hernandez-Thorne Pharmaceuticals to switch representation to Locke, Steele & Hammer — even on a trial basis — would be a huge get. Associates, even senior associates, weren’t usually afforded opportunities like this, and he didn’t plan to screw it up. 

Julia took off to speak with the printers on the thirty-eighth floor about an adjustment to the Litigation one-sheet and work with the tech in Conference Room A — the fancy one — for the presentation. Tim sat back in his chair and stretched.

The tone announcing a new email sounded, and he turned to his laptop and grinned. 

_  
From: Armand.Hammer@LSHLaw.com _

_To: Timothee.Chalamet@LSHLaw.com_

_Subject: Review of Billing - Pico Mountain_

*************************************

_Chalamet,_

_I need to review an entry on this month’s Pico Mountain bill. Check November 5th, the one for 5.9 hours. Let me know if it looks right._

_Hammer_

Tim’s fingers flew on the keyboard as he typed his response. 

_From: Timothee.Chalamet@LSHLaw.com_

_To: Armand.Hammer@LSHLaw.com_

_Subject: Review of Billing - Pico Mountain_

_*************************************_

_Hammer,_

_It looks perfect._

_Chalamet_

Tim checked the time on Armie’s message and the clock, and grinned harder. Then he bolted out of his chair and strode for the elevator. He was stopped on the way by one of the Real Estate Partners whose client he’d helped win a seventy-three million dollar verdict last month. After a minute of exchanging pleasantries, he excused himself — _late for a meeting —_ and took off again. 

Seven minutes after Armie’s message had come in, he slid to a stop in front of the satellite supply room on the fifty-ninth floor. He smoothed his hair back and shook out his suit jacket. Then he looked around, and, seeing no one in sight, he opened the door and slipped inside. 

Armie was leaning up against the shelves of copy paper, smirking. 

“You’re late,” he said. “Again.”

They’d developed this cloak and dagger code to meet up at the office not because it was _necessary_ — they could just text each other — but there was something kind of fun in carrying out their affair under everyone’s noses. Tim had suggested it as a joke and been surprised that Armie had jumped at the idea...but he had to admit it added some extra amusement to the day. 

“You didn’t give me much time,” Tim replied. “Five minutes to respond and get down here from sixty-six? And I got caught up by Miller on the way. Didn’t want to pass up a chance to butter him up.”

“You’ve had his vote locked since last month,” Armie said, with a wave of his hand. 

Tim took a good long look at his boyfriend. He looked especially good that day, his blue eyes accentuated by the tones in his shirt and tie, his hair swept back just so, his beard the perfect amount of scruff. 

“What about your vote?” Tim asked. He approached Armie, moving close but not quite touching. 

“I might need some more convincing.” Armie leaned in and brushed his lips against Tim’s once, twice. “Show me what you’ve got?”

Tim closed the rest of the distance between them, pressing his palms into Armie’s chest and taking the man’s mouth in a deep kiss. Armie’s hands slid around his waist and under his jacket, stroking long fingers up and down his spine. 

Four months into this relationship, and kissing Armie was still one of Tim’s favorite activities. If he had his way, they’d kiss for hours every day...and he got his way more often than not. 

When the kiss ended, Tim sighed. 

“What’s wrong?” Armie asked, running his fingers through Tim’s hair. 

“Nothing,” Tim said. He blushed faintly under Armie’s scrutiny. “You’ll think it’s dumb.”

“Try me.” Armie kissed Tim’s jaw, his cheek, his ear. 

“Sometimes I feel like I don’t... _click_...until you’ve kissed me.”

“Click?”

“Like...when I stay at my place. I’m always slightly _off_ in the morning until...well.” Tim ducked his head. “I told you it was dumb.”

“I don’t think it’s dumb,” Armie said. He tipped Tim’s chin up. “I feel the same.”

They kissed another minute, until Tim said, “I should get back. The Hernandez-Thorne pitch is at three, and there are a few other things I need to take care of before then.”

“Do you have time for lunch with a few of the Transactional partners?” Armie asked. 

Tim froze. “Is this a last-minute vote thing? Should I be—“

“No, don’t worry. I told you, it’s practically decided. This is more...some of the partners who are already on board wouldn’t mind a chance to get to know you a little. It would be good, but if you don’t have time it’s fine.”

“Oh.” Tim thought about his to-do list and nodded. “I can make it work as long as I’m back here by one-thirty.”

“I’ll set it up. Meet me in the lobby at noon and we’ll go over together. It’ll give me a chance to boost you up before your pitch.”

“Okay.” Tim stretched up for one more kiss and then stepped back. 

“I still have your other gift, too,” Armie said, his eyes sparkling. “The one you didn’t get this morning because you can’t set an alarm properly.”

“The kissing wasn’t my other gift?” Timmy asked. “What is it?”

“No time now. Get back to work, and I’ll see you at lunch.”

Armie reached out and turned Tim around, then patted his ass. Tim snickered and, with one last look over his shoulder, he slipped back out into the empty hall and hurried back to his floor. 

* * *

Tim didn’t miss the fact that Armie’s hand rested on the small of his back as he greeted the three Transactional partners — known around the firm as “dot com” or “the three Ws” — at _Fiorelli’s_ a couple of hours later, but he hoped the others did.

“Tim, glad you could squeeze us in today,” Martin Wheelock said. He raised his hand to flag the server to their table. 

“Thanks for the invite,” Tim said, settling into one of the heavy wooden chairs as Armie sat beside him. “And it’s no problem, really.”

“Hammer said you could juggle anything anyone threw at you.” Shakira Winter shot Armie a look. “And based on what I’ve seen, that’s true.”

“I certainly try,” Tim said. 

The server stopped at their table, and Nathan Washington ordered mussels, arancini al forno, and bruschetta for the table, along with a bottle of wine. Tim tried not to let his amusement show on his face as the man insisted on ordering in badly-pronounced Italian. He felt Armie’s foot pressing a light acknowledgement against his under the table, and cleared his throat to avoid giggling. 

The three Ws struck up a casual conversation about a common client, and Armie leaned in. 

“Bring up the pitch,” he murmured. “Whenever you have a chance.”

Timmy waited until they’d ordered their meals, and he’d declined the wine. 

“I need to be sharp this afternoon,” he explained apologetically after asking the server for a seltzer. “I have a meeting with Dr. Stacy Hernandez.”

“That’s right,” Shakira said. “Hammer mentioned that last week. How’d you score that meeting, if I could ask? Hernandez-Thorne is practically married to Devlin & Koch. They never sit down with another firm.”

“I actually met Stacy Hernandez at a basketball game,” Tim said. “We were sitting next to each other, and I recognized her.”

“Did you just strike up a conversation?” Nathan asked. “That’s ballsy.”

“She was eyeing my soft pretzel and then clearly looking for the vendor, so I broke it apart and handed her half.”

The three Ws laughed. “That’s a new one,” Martin said. “You must have great seats at the Garden, to have been sitting with her.”

Tim shot a glance at Armie. Of course, the seats hadn’t been his, they were Armie’s. He wasn’t sure how to sidestep this one. Thankfully, Armie was ready. 

“They were my season tickets, actually,” Armie said. “And yes, they’re great. I’d never seen Hernandez there before, though.”

“You were there?” Nathan asked. “And you let the kid make the sale? That was generous.”

Tim cringed inwardly at the remark, but he knew what Washington meant. Bringing in a client meant production credit, and a portion of the income from any work the client gave the firm even if he didn’t work on the case. It would be a big deal for a senior partner to let an associate take the credit, officially. If they looked too closely at that, they might suspect there was something behind it. 

But Armie once again gracefully sidestepped the inquiry with...the truth. He waved a hand. “I had left to use the men’s room and grab some beer, and when I got back Tim was already deep in conversation with the CEO of the biggest pharma company headquartered in Manhattan. She was obviously quite taken with him, and I had no chance to intercede.” 

He slid his hand onto Tim’s knee under the table in what was probably meant to be a reassuring move. Instead, it made Tim’s heart pick up speed, and he tried hard not to visibly react. 

“What an interview that turned out to be,” Shakira said. “Hammer, I bet you decided on the spot to back Chalamet.”

“Oh, I’d decided that already,” Armie said. “Years ago. Any fool could see what an asset he’d become.”

Tim blushed. “Just trying to do my job,” he said. 

“Tell us about your pitch strategy,” Nathan said. 

For the remainder of the lunch, Tim took control of the conversation. He asked about specific clients, talked Shakira Winter into consulting on one of his cases, and tried to ignore the way Armie kept touching his knee under the table. 

In the cab on the way back to the office, Tim jabbed two fingers in Armie’s side. 

“What was with the funny business?” he asked. “I thought we were keeping this quiet. Bad enough they know you take me to Knicks games on date night.”

“They don’t know it was a date,” Armie laughed, catching Tim’s hand before he could poke at Armie again, and kissing his fingers. “They think I was sizing you up for partner material.”

“Does this mean you take _all_ the potential partners on dates?” Tim asked, wiggling his eyebrows. “Should I be jealous?”

“Would you be?” Armie’s features went serious. 

“If you were entertaining other lawyers to see if they’re worthy of being partner? No,” Tim said. 

“What about if I took another guy out on a date?”

Tim frowned, his stomach plummeting. “ _Are_ you?” he asked. They hadn’t explicitly talked about being exclusive, but Tim had assumed Armie wasn’t seeing anyone else. _He_ certainly wasn’t, and didn’t have any interest in it, either. The whole idea made him slightly sick. 

“No,” Armie said. “I’m not.”

“Oh. Good. I mean —“ Tim ran a hand through his hair and took a deep breath. Might as well say it. “I mean, you can obviously do what you want, just...don’t.”

“Don’t date anyone else?” Armie asked. He gazed at Tim. “Is that what you want?”

“Yeah, don’t...I don’t want you seeing anyone but me,” Timmy said. “Unless it’s too soon, in which case forget I said it.”

Armie descended on Tim, attacking his mouth with an edge of possession that left Tim shivering. The cab slid to a stop in front of the office, and Armie broke the kiss, already grinning. 

“Okay,” he said. “You too, right?”

“Of course, yeah,” Tim said. His insides coiled and he felt almost giddy. Had Armie just agreed to be exclusive? Holy _shit_. “You know I haven’t seen anyone else since we...since you.”

“Do I?” Armie said. He ran his credit card through the card reader. He glanced at Tim with a smirk. “We haven’t talked about it.”

“Well, we’re talking about it now,” Tim said. “So.”

Armie opened the door and climbed out, holding it wide so Tim could follow. As he straightened up, Armie clasped his hand briefly and then let go.

The day was looking up. 

* * *

Tim sat back in the leather chair just to the left of the head of the conference table and waited for Gina Christopher, the partner from Real Estate, to wrap up her assessment of Hernandez-Thorne’s New Jersey holdings. Gina clicked the remote, and the final slide of her presentation appeared. 

“In all, we think that refinancing Property A to fund the outstanding loans on Properties B through E will save the company upwards of one-hundred-seventy million dollars in the first year alone.” She smiled. “And that concludes the analysis of _one_ set of properties in _one_ of the six states you occupy.”

Stacy Hernandez tilted her head to the right slightly. The man sitting next to her, one of the corporate officers, said, “And taking on debt for the flagship property doesn’t seem risky?”

“Not any more risky than spreading your debt across multiple loans held by multiple financial institutions. We consolidate, we get better terms, you save money.”

“The flagship is just an office building, am I right?” Tim interjected. 

“Yes, the original headquarters,” Stacy said, shifting her attention to him. 

“It holds high sentimental value for the company,” the officer said. 

“Of course,” Tim said. “And sentimental value is value, no doubt. Since you’re now headquartered in Manhattan, however, those offices are occupied by…”

“Tertiary staff,” Stacy said. “I see where you’re going.”

“The property is worth quite a lot. The location is optimal and the area has high desirability for business,” Gina jumped in. 

“Are you suggesting we _sell_ the flagship property?” the officer asked, a skeptical look on his face. 

Tim held up a hand. “Well, not immediately. And not necessarily sell—“

“Lease. Get top rental dollar and retain the property for future reclaiming.” Stacy said, looking at Tim sharply. 

“Ridiculous,” the officer scoffed. 

“Not to me,” Stacy said. “To me it sounds like a clever way to manage our debt and create more cash for funding the research.”

Tim shrugged one shoulder. “Of course, this is premature. All we’re doing today is having a conversation about ‘what if, based on limited public information and our initial talk. If we represented you...the real discussions could begin.’” 

Gina handed him the remote, and he clicked to the closing slide. 

“To recap: Real Estate. Transactional. Insurance. Immigration. Patent.” As Tim named each area of their practice, he pointed around the table at the partner representatives of each group. Then he placed a hand on his own chest. “Litigation. Right now, you source your legal work to a firm that, while outstanding, simply can’t provide every one of these services, and have to shop out for your other needs. With Locke, Steele & Hammer, all you have to do is call me. I just shout down the hall for Ted, or run down the stairs to check in with Gina. It’s all right here.”

“And you’re very generous with your pretzels, so I can imagine how you are with your resources,” Stacy said, with a grin. 

Tim grinned back. 

She watched him for a moment, and then got to her feet. The officer gathered up the glossy one-sheets and stood with her, and everyone else at the table followed suit. 

“Thank you for this,” Stacy said. “It certainly gives us a lot to think about.”

“I’m so glad you came in,” Tim said. “I’ll walk you out.”

The others offered their farewells, and Tim led the way out of the conference room and down the hall to the reception area. The officer shook Tim’s hand and then excused himself to use the restroom. Once he was gone, Stacy turned to Tim. 

“Listen, I’ve got to talk to the board, but…” 

Tim held his breath. 

“I can promise you that _at least_ I will make sure we throw you work in all these areas over the next few months, and if that goes well? I see many Knicks games in our future.”

Tim held out his hand, and she took it. “Welcome to the family, Stacy. You’re gonna love the Holiday Party. I’ll make sure to send you an invitation.”

She laughed, and then looked around. “And where's that handsome man of yours? The Hammer himself?”

Tim’s nerves went into high alert, and he glanced around. The reception area was empty but for the receptionist himself, and he was on the phone. 

“Actually,” Tim said quietly, “if you could not mention—“

Understanding passed across her features. “Of course.”

“Just until after — it should be out in the open before too long, but it’s delicate,” Tim explained. 

Her eyes flashed with interest. “My husband and I would love to have dinner with you both sometime soon, and we can be completely unprofessional and share all the gossip.” 

“With pleasure,” Tim said. “Call me and we’ll set it up.”

The officer returned, and he waved them out to the elevators. Then he went back down the hall to the conference room to collect his things. He was surprised to find the room still full of the partners. 

He stopped in the doorway, and their conversation ceased as they turned to him in unison. These were some of the people he would get to call _his_ partners, soon, if things went well tonight. He smiled. 

“Expect calls from their legal department to start coming in soon,” he said, unable to hold back the grin. “And she said that was the very _least.”_

A chorus of congratulations and cheers sounded, as the partners stood and began shaking each other’s hands. Ted Marino clapped him on the back. 

“That looked effortless,” he said. “Like it was your hundred-and-first pitch instead of your first. Hammer was right when he pushed to let you lead.”

“He did?” Tim asked, stunned. He hadn’t known that, and he wasn’t sure how he felt about it.

“He thinks the world of you,” Ted said. “And apparently he’s placing his trust in the right spot.”

Others came by to shake his hand, and eventually he was left alone. He gathered up the extra one-sheets and turned off the tech. Then he stood in the quiet room for a minute. 

He’d pulled it off. And it had been _him._ He’d met Stacy, talked her into a sit down, selected the pitch team, created the strategy, and run the presentation. No one else. 

After a handful of deep breaths, he pulled out his phone and tapped out a message. 

_Tim: It’s done._

The reply was immediate. 

_Armie: And?_

_Tim: Meet me on fifty-two, ten minutes._

He took his time taking things back to his office, and then visited the restroom before heading down to forty-two by the rear stairwell. Once in the back hall, he slid into the conference room that was doubling as storage for files for one of his recently concluded cases. 

He was the first one there, and he moved to the windows, looking out at the city below. A couple of minutes later, the door behind him opened. 

“Tim?” Armie’s voice was cautious. 

“Hey,” Tim said, without turning around. 

After a beat, Armie crossed the room to stand beside him. “So...how did it go?”

“Is it true that you were the reason I got to lead the pitch?” Tim asked, turning to Armie. The man looked suddenly worried, lines appearing around his eyes. 

“No, of course not,” he said. 

Tim frowned. “Ted Marino said you’d pushed for me to lead. So...is that true or not? Don’t...don’t lie to me, I—“

“Hold on,” Armie said, holding out a hand. “Don’t jump to conclusions here. He suggested, during the last new business call, that someone with more experience than you needed to take charge of this. I think _he_ wanted to do it, because he spent a while talking about how patent was central to the pitch.”

Tim waited, his chest a tangle of knots. 

“All I did was point out that you brought the client to the table, I could vouch that she had a rapport with you, that she would be expecting you to take the lead...and that I was sure you could handle it.” He shook his head. “So if that’s pushing then...yeah. But I didn’t have to push hard. Others jumped on and argued for you as well.”

Tim bit his lip. He wanted to believe he was where he was because of his hard work. Because of his talent. And not because...he was sleeping with the boss. 

Armie seemed to sense the conflict going on in Tim’s head, because he tentatively reached out, gripped Tim’s shoulders lightly, then ran his palms down to Tim’s elbows. 

“I wasn’t a reason for anything,” Armie murmured. “And in any case, I was arguing for the benefit of the firm. Getting Hernandez-Thorne would be a much-needed influx of business and cash. So if I was pushing for you to lead it’s because I truly believed it was the right choice, and not because I happen to like you better than anyone else here. I didn’t do it because it would help you with partnership. I _would_ do that, because I believe in you, but in this case I didn’t.”

He sighed. “I know we’ve touched on this, but I want to make it clear: I’m never going to make a firm decision just to make you happy, or because you’re the best thing that’s happened to me in...well, full stop. I can separate it, and I _will_ , because I’ve got an obligation to the firm. You’re going to have to trust me on that, and forgive me if something I do _doesn’t_ go your way.” 

Tim saw the truth in Armie’s eyes, and the tension seeped out of him. Armie was right; the man’s first responsibility was to make good decisions for the firm. Tim could trust that he would continue to do that, whether that meant it benefitted Tim or not. 

He smiled. “I trust you,” he said. 

Armie relaxed visibly. He squeezed Timmy’s elbows. “So...tell me about the pitch. How was Stacy?”

Tim realized that Armie was being cautious, trying not to put too much weight in his question. It was an important pitch, but he didn’t want Tim to feel bad if it hadn’t gone well. Tim’s chest swelled and his smile widened. 

“She’s good,” he said, also keeping his voice casual. “She liked our ideas and seemed impressed with the pitch. Everyone pulled their weight.”

“That’s great,” Armie said. “I’m sure she’s got to go back to her board.”

“Yeah, she did say that,” Tim said. 

Armie nodded. “Well, here’s my question: do you feel good about it? How it came off?”

Tim nodded. “I feel great, actually,” he said. “Especially since she promised we’d get work in all of the pitched practice areas over the next few months.” His lips twisted into a smirk. 

“Fucking hell, Tim,” Armie exploded. He whacked Tim’s bicep sharply. “You had me thinking I was going into ‘comfort my boyfriend’ mode. She said that? She’s sending us work?”

“Yeah.” Tim couldn’t contain his grin anymore. A thrill shot through him. “She practically said she was switching their representation, she just had to jump through a couple of hoops first.”

Then Tim was in Armie’s arms. He looped his arms around Armie’s neck and hung on tight as his feet left the ground in a wide arc. Armie set him back down and kissed him fiercely, his palms cupping Tim’s cheeks. 

“I knew you could fucking do it,” Armie said. “This is huge. A great move to helping to stabilize the firm over the long term. And you’re going to make a fucking _fortune_ for bringing them in.”

“I get it,” Tim said, leaning into Armie and brushing their noses together. “You’re with me for my earning potential.”

“That’s it,” Armie murmured, “You've figured it out. I’m a gold digger. It’s all about the cash, and has nothing at all to do with the way you taste. Here...” Armie kissed the side of Tim’s neck. “And here…” He trailed his lips around to hollow of Tim’s throat. 

Tim hummed. “That’s nice,” he said. “You can keep doing that.” Armie continued his delicate licks and kisses around Tim’s neck, and Tim melted towards him. 

Then something Armie had said earlier floated through his mind. 

“I’m the best thing that’s happened to you?” he asked. 

Armie stilled, his lips pressed to the sensitive spot behind Tim’s left ear. Tim held his breath. 

When Armie pulled back, he looked almost nervous. Armand Hammer _nervous_ was a sight that set Tim’s stomach in motion, a mix of delight and excitement. 

“Well,” he said, rubbing a hand on the back of his neck, “yeah?”

The overwhelming, giddy combination of elation, adrenaline, and arousal washed over Tim. The success of the pitch, the acknowledgment to be exclusive, and the way Armie was looking at him — and _looking_ , period — was almost too much to take. He blinked rapidly as moisture sprang to his eyes. 

“Hey, what…I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to—“ Armie reached out, his hands fluttering in the air before landing on Tim’s hands and gripping them tight. “Too much pressure, I get it. Don’t...freak out on me.”

But Tim was shaking his head, his vision blurring, and he let go of Armie’s hands and threw his arms around the man’s neck.

“I feel the same way,” he said. “The exact same way.” 

This kiss had an edge to it, as though Tim — and Armie too, perhaps — had something to prove. He dove into Armie’s mouth with a rough insistence, teeth clacking and tongues battling. Armie backed up against the conference table, bringing Tim with him, and sat on the edge. Tim took the opportunity to climb, straddling Armie with a knee on either side of his hips. 

A single thrust of Armie’s hips _up_ had them both groaning. 

“Fuck,” Armie whispered. 

“Yeah, okay,” Tim said. He loosened Armie’s tie, wrenched his top buttons open, and then fastened his lips on Armie’s neck and sucked hard. 

Armie moaned and slid a hand south until he could feel Tim’s half-hard cock beneath his pants. He gave it a couple of strokes, and Tim let go of Armie’s neck to throw his head back on a whimper. 

“We can’t—“ Armie said, continuing to stroke. 

“I know,” Tim said. He rocked his hips into Armie’s hand and rested his forehead on the man’s shoulder. _Fucking hell_ , that felt good. “You better stop.”

Armie’s hand moved faster, and Tim whimpered into his neck. Finally, when Tim was close to saying _fuck it, just go for it_ , he finally stopped. 

They held onto each other, breathing hard. 

“You’re staying with me tonight,” Armie said, when he’d caught his breath. “Or I’ll stay at yours, I don’t fucking care.”

Tim managed a half giggle. “You care. You think my place sucks.”

“It does suck. You never have real food, and it’s far away. What possessed you to buy a place in _Brooklyn_?” Armie kissed Tim’s cheek. 

“Brooklyn is cool,” Tim said. 

“Brooklyn is _far_. When you make partner, you can afford better.” Armie rested his forehead against Tim’s. 

“I like my place,” Tim said. “I don’t need _better_. Which is very...Manhattanist of you.”

“You complain about it constantly. Your heat keeps busting. And your condo board is awful.”

“Okay, but staying at your place instead of you staying at mine doesn’t have anything to do with the condo board.” Tim laughed. “What are we arguing about?”

“Nothing,” Armie said. “So you’re staying with me tonight, that’s settled?”

“Oh yeah,” Tim said. “If I make partner we can celebrate with pasta and all-night fucking. If not, I’m gonna need a _lot_ of comforting. Preferably in the form of pasta and all-night fucking.”

Armie snickered. “Done and done.”

They held each other another minute, and Tim sighed. “We should get back. I do actually have other cases going on.”

“I had to go and snag someone on their way up with something to prove,” Armie groaned. “Kiss me another minute, first, and then I guess I have work as well”

Tim complied, because how could he say no to a request like that?

* * *

The rest of the afternoon flew by faster than Tim would have expected. He made calls, met with associates doing document review, dug into some research, and hired an expert witness. 

Before he knew it, Julia was wishing him goodnight. 

“Jesus, it’s six already?” he asked, blinking at the clock on his laptop. 

She laughed. “It is. I sent the exhibits from the Harrison matter to the printer, they’ll be ready tomorrow.”

“Did Mariana double check—“

“She did. She said to tell you it’s perfect and she’ll triple check all the copies in the morning.”

“Great. Thank you,” Tim said, giving her a tired smile. 

She nodded. “I’m going to head out, but good luck tonight, and when you find out what happens…text me.”

“Oh.” Tim shrugged. “I probably won’t hear until at least tomorrow,” he lied. Of course Armie would tell him, but he wouldn’t _officially_ get word until he was called into a meeting — or not — the next day. 

Julia rolled her eyes, then lowered her voice. “That man will be in here with the news seconds after it happens,” she said. “Or he’ll tell you over dinner tonight, tell me I’m wrong.”

Tim blushed, and cleared his throat. “Man?”

She eyed him, and he shrank slightly under her gaze. 

“Right,” she said finally, with a grin. “I’ve no idea what I’m even talking about. Still...text me as soon as he gives you the news.”

Unable to resist her, Tim relaxed, grinning back. “I’ll text you.”

After she left, he realized that, if Julia knew about his relationship with Armie, she could be an ally. Then again, if she knew, maybe others did, too. He’d have to ask her about that. He could trust her. 

Arm texted him a few minutes later. 

_Armie: Going in now. Should be done in maybe an hour._

Tim’s pulse sped up, and he took a few deep breaths. He’d done everything he could. _Everything._ It wasn’t likely they’d choose anyone else over him. It was possible they’d decide not to make any new partners at all this year. But with the success of the Hernandez-Thorne pitch...he had to think that would matter, in this economy. 

For the next hour, he tried to focus on work. He started with reading some research, but when that went nowhere he turned to reviewing a stack of documents some associates had pulled for him. That all swam before his eyes, so he tried to review the Complaint Dani had drafted. 

Eventually, he gave up and played solitaire on his phone, mindlessly moving the cards into position and repeatedly checking the time. 

Finally, _finally,_ his phone buzzed with a text. 

_Armie: Pack up for the day and meet me in my office._

He responded quickly. 

_Tim: Do I get a hint? Thumbs up or down?_

There was no reply. 

By the time he’d assembled his bag, gathered his coat, and turned off the lights, he’d convinced himself it just wasn’t meant to be. He didn’t need to make partner now. He made plenty of money, had great relationships with the lawyers and his clients, and he had a gorgeous boyfriend who seemed to like him a lot. That was enough, and there would be other chances.

He made his way up to the sixty-eighth floor and around to the southeast corner office, taking a circuitous route so the few people he passed wouldn’t know where he was going. When he got there, the door was closed. He paused a moment, and then knocked. 

“Come in,” Armie’s muffled voice called from the other side. 

Tentatively, Tim twisted the handle and pushed the door open. 

Armie was leaning against his conference table, arms crossed over his chest. His face was unreadable. Tim’s stomach dropped. It was a no, then. It had to be. He’d be fine, like he had said. He wouldn’t let Armie feel bad, either. 

He carefully arranged his features into a relaxed smile. 

“Hi,” he said. 

“Close the door,” Armie said. 

Tim closed the door behind him, then set his bag and his coat on the sideboard. He waited for Armie to give him the bad news. 

Instead, Armie turned towards the table, and when he turned back, he was holding two champagne glasses, filled with bubbly golden liquid. He grinned. 

“Congratulations, partner.”

Tim’s heart skipped two beats. “Wait...really?”

“Really. I told you it was in the bag.” Armie held out one of the glasses. “Come here, have a drink with me. Bask in the glory.”

Feeling slightly numb, Tim stumbled forward. Armie pressed the glass into his hand and clinked his own glass against it. Then he laughed as Tim just stared at him. 

“Tim. You did it.”

With an explosion of breath, Tim clutched a hand to his chest. “Oh my god,” he said. “Oh my _god,_ I did.”

“Yes, now drink your champagne.” Armie gently nudged the bottom of the glass up. 

Tim unfroze and took a sip of the champagne. It was cold and crisp and tasted like victory. He grinned. 

“You scared me. I was sure it was a no,” he said, whacking Armie lightly on the chest and then leaving his hand there, resting over Armie’s heart. 

“Payback for this afternoon,” Armie replied. He placed his hand over Tim’s and rubbed it lightly. “But if you had just trusted me, and listened to what I’d been saying, you wouldn’t have been worried.”

“I’m convinced. I’ll never doubt you again.” Tim drank some more champagne, feeling like he was flying high. 

“So...shall we celebrate, partner?” Armie asked. 

Tim simply gazed at Armie. He couldn’t really believe that all of this was happening. The past four months, since that impulsive moment at the charity auction, had been a blur. Most of the time, he was convinced he’d fallen asleep and was dreaming it all. 

To think he’d spent years watching Armie from afar, wanting him...and that all that time, Armie had been wanting him back. To think they’d been waiting for each other, in a way, never getting involved in anything serious. To think that now he was standing touching Armie, the recipient of a soft-eyed look and a gentle caress…

All of that, and partnership? It was almost too much. 

Armie leaned in and kissed him gently, and then more deeply. It went on and on, and Tim felt his insides go soft, that long, low pull in his groin. When they broke the kiss, he sighed. 

“Yes,” he said. “Celebrate. I think there were promises of pasta and sex, not necessarily in that order.”

“Finish your glass, then, and let’s get out of here.”

Tim drank down the rest of the fizzy liquid while Armie gathered his things. Once they were in their coats, Armie opened the door. 

“The coast is clear,” he said, holding out his hand. 

Tim took it, and Armie pulled him out into the corridor. The evening lights were on, casting an odd, vacant glow around the space that was usually bustling with people. Armie’s floor was all partners, and they were often working late. 

“Seems empty for only seven-thirty,” Tim commented. 

“Partners all left after the vote,” Armie said. “I begged off the drinks and said I had a late client call.”

They moved towards the elevator hand in hand. Tim felt a thrill that they were doing this in public. It probably wasn’t the smartest thing, but it made him happy nonetheless. They held hands all the way down to the lobby, then out into the brisk wind that had kicked up as the sun had set. 

The car ride to Armie’s was quiet. Tim snuggled happily against Armie as they moved through the traffic, laying his head on Armie’s chest and letting himself drift contentedly. It had been a long day, but even though it had started out a bit rough, it had turned out well. 

The quiet lasted until Armie pulled Tim through his door. Then he tossed their bags aside and began pulling off Tim’s coat, then his suit jacket, his tie, punctuating each move with a rough kiss. 

Tim quickly got on board, shoving Armie’s coat off of his shoulders, yanking his tie loose and pulling it over his head, unbuttoning the same buttons he’d undone earlier. 

When they were both naked, Armie pulled Tim against him and breathed into his hair. 

“I’ve been waiting for this all day,” he murmured. “Ever since I heard your voice this morning.”

“Me too,” Tim said. He wrapped his arms around Armie’s neck and jumped. Armie caught his ass, and Timmy wrapped his legs around Armie’s waist. “Take me to bed,” he said. “Please.”

Without a word, Armie turned and strode across his entry and his living room and into the master bedroom. Once there, he crawled onto the bed and then lowered Tim onto the mattress. No sooner had he sunk into the soft cushion than Armie was kissing him again, stretching his lean form against Tim’s in a delicious slide. 

Tim tried to catch his breath as Armie began a journey south, licking and nipping at the skin of his chest and stomach. But then, without preamble, Armie took Tim in his mouth and Tim arched up, moaning.

He grabbed at the bedding as his arousal shot through the roof, his cock going hard in seconds. Armie worked him expertly, and in no time Tim was writhing and pleading with him to stop. 

“Please,” he said. “Please fuck me, I can’t...I’m not gonna last.”

Armie pulled off with a pop and looked up at him, grinning. “What if I don’t want you to? What if I want you to come like this, and then again with me inside you, and then once more with you inside me?”

_Fuck._ Tim pumped his hips up, groaning. “Seriously, I feel like I _could,_ but please, just...please.”

Armie crawled back up his body and captured his mouth once more. “We _are_ celebrating your victory,” he said. “So I guess I can accommodate you.”

In no time, Armie was sliding into Tim, and they were both sighing. The rhythm was comfortable, familiar, but no less exciting than it had been that night at Armie’s house in Maine. Tim ran his hands over every bit of the man he could reach, sending up prayers of thanks once more at how incredibly lucky he was. 

When they came, slick with sweat and gasping, Timmy turned his face into Armie’s neck and breathed deeply, floating in contentment once more. 

“Are you happy?” Armie asked a while later. They’d cleaned up, thrown on sweats, and ordered food from Tim’s favorite Italian place. Armie had opened a bottle of wine and pulled Tim into his lap on the sofa. 

“Yeah,” Tim said. “It’s been an amazing day. It’s been amazing for a while, actually,” he amended, remembering his earlier thoughts. 

“I’m glad,” Armie said. He paused, and then, seeming to make a decision, he took a deep breath. “I still haven’t given you your gift. Now seems a good time.”

He reached into the pocket of his sweats and pulled out two items: a card and a key. 

Tim eyed them, suddenly nervous and afraid to think what he was thinking. “What is that?” he asked. 

“That is your very own card access to the lobby door and the elevator, and your very own key to the condo.” Armie shrugged one shoulder. “You’re here so much, I thought...you should be able to come and go as you please.”

Tim reached out and took the items, turning them over in his hand. “You really trust me with these?”

Armie laughed softly. “I trust you with everything,” he said. “I’m trusting you with _me_. You know I don’t interact with my family. Well, I know it hasn’t been that long, but...you feel like my family. Have pretty much since that first night in Maine. So giving you this is both a big deal and not a big deal at all.”

“Thank you,” Tim said, his heart pounding at Armie’s words. “I hope you understand this means I might never actually _leave,_ so if it gets to be too much and you want to take it back I’d understand. I can offer you a clawback provision.”

“I won’t need it,” Armie said. “If I wasn’t worried about moving too fast, I’d—”

He cut himself off and took a sip of his wine. 

“You’d what?” Tim asked. 

“Nothing,” Armie said, shaking his head. 

“Come on. You’d what? You trust me, remember?” Tim poked Armie’s chest with the tip of the key. 

“Fuck, I’d have to fall in love with a lawyer. Spinning my words back at me at every turn.”

Armie seemed to realize what he’d said the same moment Tim did, and he turned pink, burying his face in his wine glass once more. 

There was a long beat, in which neither of them spoke, and then Tim broke the silence. 

“You’re not the only one,” he said softly, “who’s fallen in love.”

Armie looked for a second like he’d been handed the moon. He leaned in and kissed Tim gently, lips just brushing in a delicate caress that made Tim shiver. 

“So I’m not moving too fast?” Armie asked. “I mean, you didn’t even know we were exclusive until today.”

“I thought we were,” Tim said. “I just…we hadn’t talked about it. It was nice to confirm. And no, nothing is too fast.”

“Good. Tell me if it is. I tend to get carried away when it comes to you.”

The doorbell rang, and Armie grinned. “Food. Wait here.”

He deposited Tim on the sofa, set his wine on the coffee table, and went for the delivery. Tim nestled back into the cushions and smiled. 

New case, new client, new partnership, a declaration of love, and a set of keys. 

He could wait until tomorrow to tell Armie he was planning to move in. They’d had enough excitement for one day. 


End file.
